


why are you sad?

by lonelydoctors



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Eleventh doctor on a swing, Gen, Swing, The Doctor and children - Freeform, The Doctor is lonely, The Eleventh Doctor has a talk with a child, and he is very troubled, as usual, but so is she, eleventh doctor and children, on a swing-set, very angsty, who is very perceptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 07:02:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelydoctors/pseuds/lonelydoctors
Summary: What he really was, however, was a scared man who stole a box and ran away because he was too cowardly to fight. A vain man, who goes around bragging about the things he’s seen and the things he can do, simply because he wants to be adored. A selfish man, who offers people all of time and space, time and time again, full well knowing the risks by now, just because he cannot bear to be alone. | character study for the Eleventh Doctor who struggles with his feelings of guilt and regret while talking to a little girl on a swing. | ANGST!





	why are you sad?

****With a quiet 'thump' the TARDIS landed on an old, deserted playground. A cold wind was blowing and a few abandoned leaves, scattered on the ground, were swept away.

After a short while one of the doors opened and The Doctor stepped out, eyes closed, taking one deep breath of the fresh, crisp autumn air, and fixed his already spotless bow-tie.

 

He looked around and began walking towards an empty and, to be honest kind of rusty looking,swing-set. A sad smile played on his lips, as he imagined all those cheerful children, that used to go running about this place, having fun, not a single worry in the world. As it should be.

 

All those blessed and happy memories, he thought as he slowly sat down on one of the swings, and now he had to come here, _tainting_ them with his guilt and sorrow. His smile faded as another cold breeze swept along and The Doctor gave the swing a little push.

 

It was all his fault. Amy, Rory, River, everyone. Everyone, every _single_ person he’s ever met, it’s all been his fault, and his fault alone. They could have lived a happy, safe life, a _normal_ life.

But he just had to come saunter into all their lives and ruin it all, didn’t he? He ruined their chances of ever being content, of ever being satisfied with an ordinary life. And in the end, he supposed, he ultimately ruined their chances of living all together.

 

Selfish. That’s what he was.

All those stories, all those legends, making him out to be some kind of god, a saviour and a healer, travelling the stars and rescuing everybody.

It was all rubbish. Lies. Nothing more than stories of an idealised version of himself, of what he could have been.

 

What he really was, however, was a scared man who stole a box and ran away because he was too cowardly to fight. A vain man, who goes around bragging about the things he’s seen and the things he can do, simply because he wants to be adored. A selfish man, who offers people all of time and space, time and time again, full well knowing the risks by now, just because he cannot bear to be alone.

 

The immensity of his own flaws and his disgust with himself were overwhelming and with a dry, choked sob, The Doctor buried his face in his hands, pressing his palms into the sides his of his head, willing it to stop.

 

He _knows_.

 

"Why are you sad?”

 

A small, tiny voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts and The Doctor jumped up, immediately rearranging his facial features and pulling himself back together. Upon looking to his right, he saw a little girl sitting on the swing next to him. The first thing he noticed about here weren’t her worn clothes or the countless strands of her hair that came loose from her messy ponytail and were now floating in the wind, but the look of utter blankness in her eyes – like she was empty inside.

 

The Doctor felt an ache deep in his chest and his throat closing up.

"Why are you sad?”, she asked again upon not receiving an answer the first time and began swinging a bit and she seemed _fine_. Totally and perfectly normal from the outside.

Her eyes, though, reminded The Doctor of days long gone, of pain and sorrow long buried beneath regret and guilt.

They reminded him of a younger version of himself.

The Doctor suddenly had the unbearable urge to get rid of all her worries and troubles, to help her like he refuses to help himself.

 

"Eh?", was everything The Doctor could manage with that intense feeling of tightness in his throat and he wondered what that little girl was even doing in an abandoned playground like this.

 

"I asked you why you are sad," she repeated once again, turning her eyes to the ground.

 

"Why would I be sad?", he asked, forcing himself to smile at the little girl, though it was painfully obvious so.

 

“Because I’m sad. And you look like me.”

 

The pain in The Doctor’s chest got only more intense upon hearing those words, making him forget, for a moment, just how much he despised himself.

He simply couldn't bear to see children sad – they've got a whole life to live, plenty of friends to make, lots of things to see. They shouldn't be so sad when they're only so young.

 

"Sad? Little girls like you shouldn't feel sad though, should they?", The Doctor gave her swing a little push, strangely intent on making this little girl feel better about herself. As if it would soothe his own pain in a way.

 

”Go out, make friends, have fun! And believe me when I say, because I really know what I'm talking about, that the universe is full of wonders and beauty and that there's no reason, no reason at all, to be sad now.”

 

“You’re just like everybody else,” she whispered and stopped her swing abruptly, further dirtying her shoes. Her voice was laced with such an incredible amount of disappointment that it felt like The Doctor had just been stabbed in the chest.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, his inability to even to this one thing right suffocating him, the accusations filling his mind.

 

“Nobody understands. Everybody says I can’t be sad, that I’m stupid for being sad. Maybe I’m just going to be like this forever,” her voice was barely audible now over the sound of the wind and the rustling leaves and as The Doctor looked over to her, she looked so very lost and so very, very broken sitting in her swing, next to him, that he just couldn’t help himself but get up and walk over to her.

 

With newfound determination and a fire burning in his hearts, he knelt down in front of her and took her tiny hands in his.

 

"I'm not everybody, though. I’m really not. They’re all boring, anyway, don’t listen to them. Believe me, I'm much cooler – just look at my cool bowtie!" The Doctor forced a goofy smile and indeed the girl's eyes darted to his bowtie before she chuckled a little.

 

"It looks funny," she remarked.

 

"Eh, it's not funny! It's cool. Bowties – are – cool,” he made sure to put extra emphasis on every word and mockingly straightened his bowtie again, making the little girl chuckle again. The sound was like music to his ears, banishing the thoughts into the back of his mind, accusing him of tainting yet another innocent person, of ruining yet another chance at a happy life.

 

"Come on then – Why don't you tell me what’s bothering you? And I promise I’ll help you,” he tried to put as much light-heartedness into his voice as possible, positive that only he could hear the self-disgust and sadness in it. “I’m The Doctor, here to help!” He gave a playful bow and glanced up at the little girl through his fringe.

 

She had a smile on her face but he noticed that it still did not quite reach up to her eyes to fill the emptiness in them.

 

"Why do you think you can help me, if you are so very sad yourself?”, she asked with a confidence that made the Doctor feel a little bit uneasy. He straightened up again and looked into her eyes for a moment, searching for _something_ , yet what it was he did not know himself.

 

"Tell you what. You tell me what's bothering you and when we've found a solution to your problem, maybe you can help me,” The Doctor proposed all of sudden, clapping his hands together and grinning just a little bit too much, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be able to help him – nobody was.

 

After a few minutes of silence, the girl nodded.“Okay. But only if you promise you won't tell me I'm stupid.”

 

"Cross my hearts," The Doctor answered and made cross-like drawings over both sides of his chest. She looked at him with wonder at the word choice but apparently decided she might've misheard him.

 

The little girl took a deep, shaky breath before she started talking, once again leaving The Doctor with an unbearable urge to just take her sadness away, take it away and put it onto him, what did it matter anyway?

 

"It's just that… I don't really matter, do I? I'm just a girl, there are so many people, so many better people… nobody cares about me. I’m not anything special, I'm not really worth anything, am I? It doesn't matter if I’m here or not, nobody really cares about a girl like me…”

 

The Doctor just stood there for a second, frozen to the spot, eyes wide open, clouded with disbelief and regret and he had to will himself to swallow – _once_ , _twice –_ those words weren’t supposed to come out of a little girl like her. Out of anybody, for that matter.

 

To him, every single thing, every single person mattered. Everyone and everything was important in its own way and to him, _everyone_ was valuable. He wanted nothing more than to make everyone realise that they do, in fact, matter, to show them how much they’re really worth, how much they can do and everything they could be.

 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. The girl who has been staring down at her hands the whole time, looked up at him questioningly, eyes completely dry, face completely void of emotion.

 

"You think I'm stupid, too, don't you?”, she asked him. "Everybody does.”

 

"No, no, no, listen, _listen_!”, The Doctor grabbed her hands once again. "I don't think that at all, in fact, I think you’re quite the opposite actually. But you have to believe me, when I say that there's always hope and that _everybody_ , and that includes you, matters. You may not see it now, but you, just existing to see the wonders of the world is worth it already. You are unique and special and in no way worthless. I've met loads of people, not one like the other, and they all mattered to me.”

 

The girl continued looking up at him and again, The Doctor felt this uneasiness about her gaze, as if she was looking right into his soul. “Thanks,” was all she said, all the while her gaze remained fixed upon his face.

 

“Who are you?”, she suddenly asked, her formerly blank eyes sparkling just the tiniest bit with curiosity and excitement.

 

"Oh, I'm nobody, really," The Doctor tried to evade the question.

He had to leave, _now_. It was like he was stuck in this cycle of losing people over and over again and all he wanted to do was get out. Even if that meant that he had to travel alone from now on.

 

“Sam!”, a woman’s voice suddenly called out and the little girl’s head whipped around so suddenly, her ponytail got even more loose. “That’s my mum…”, she whispered. “I’m sorry but I have to…”, but as Sam turned around to say goodbye to The Doctor she found herself alone on the playground, only the sound of the rustling leaves and the rusty swing-set rocking in the wind keeping her company.

 

He had to leave her. It was the only right thing to do.

It ached him to leave her like this, without even saying goodbye, without having made sure that she really knows her worth. But he had no choice.

The Doctor knows now that he cannot be trusted and he would never, ever risk destroying the life of other people just for his sake. It just wasn’t fair to them.

 

From now on, he would bear it all alone. How much worse could it be?

Of course there would be times of need and occasions where he would wish there was someone by his side but there would also be the good times and the wonderful and magnificent things the universe had to offer, which he would be able to enjoy in the quiet of his own company.

 

It was for the best, for everyone involved, he told himself, willing the thoughts away that whispered to him that maybe it wasn’t the best for _him_ , that perhaps his own company isn’t something he was good in dealing with.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading my story! if you could leave me kudos or a comment, that would honestly make my day a million times better! 
> 
> also hmu on [tumblr](http://lonelydoctors.tumblr.com) for more stuff! ^_^


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